100 Proof

“They’re going to light the tree at Jack London Square tonight,” said the man on the free bus. “They’re going to plug it in. It’s a good place to meet girls. I mean, women. Maybe I’ll find Mrs. Right. I mean, Miss Right. I’ve certainly found a lot of Miss Takes.”

The two girls had moved to the bathroom to talk—it was the only place to escape the thump of the bass and the screaming crowd. The one with the nose ring stood closer to the sink. The one with arms that looked painted leaned against the paper towel dispenser until she pulled up one side of her pants to show her friend a new tattoo.

Oh, it was bad when I finally showed her, she said. “Why do you have a goddamn hamburger on your fucking leg?” And I said, “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry.”

Woah. You’ve already met his parents? said the friend over beers in a quiet bar in the city.

We’re not messing around, man, she said. I’ve met his parents; it’s all on Facebook. If you saw it, you’d understand.

“I don’t believe in marriage,” said the man at the bar. “If you sign that piece of paper and you have a penis, you lose everything. My girlfriend could have anything I have. Anything. Except my Harley. If she touches my Harley, I’ll kill her.”

“Oh, I’m babbling,” said the older man at the bar swirling his white wine. “You should feel free to tell me if I should be quiet.”

“Well, I’ve been meaning to practice my skills in that area,” said the buxom bartender.

“I’m not the kind of guy that minds if a woman talks back to him,” the man said. “I long ago realized that most of us behave very badly.”

“I’m on a thin wire right now. My ears are steaming,” said the bartender to the owner. “Just so you know.”

“OK,” the owner replied. It wasn’t, after all, anything she hadn’t already heard before.

“That oil’s going to fuck up the world,” said the woman on the Heinold’s patio. “It already made the sky purple.” She shook her head. “I’m going to do a shot.”

“The problem,” said her friend, “is that nobody knows about it.”

“Everyone knows about it,” the woman said. “Who on your Facebook doesn’t know about the oil spill?”